


you come in here, you drink my coffee

by Anonymous



Category: Mothman (Folklore), Original Work
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt No Comfort, Love at First Sight, One Shot, Other, POV First Person, Possessive Behavior, Short One Shot, The Author Regrets Nothing, i need that purble nametag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: i go to drink coffee in a sketchy coffee shop at 5 am. what could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Mothman (Character)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: Anonymous, the ultimate mothman fucker works





	you come in here, you drink my coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wonhaebunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonhaebunny/gifts).



“Hi!” I say, as I walk up to the counter of the coffee shop. It’s a tiny place I found in a somewhat secluded area. “Could I get an espresso?”

There doesn’t seem to be anybody else around other than me and the person managing the cash register. It’s very early in the morning, so that could be the reason why. 

The stranger, with their head tilted downward and their face hidden behind their hat, doesn’t meet my eyes. 

I pause for a second, because there’s something off about this person. 

No, it’s not the clothing…. they’re dressed in normal, everyday clothes. Something you can easily head to the mall and pick up at some random store. 

No. 

How about, the _giant fucking wings_ behind them? 

Yeah, that sounds plausible. 

The information sinks in, and vaguely, I realize that I probably _should not_ be here. 

Nope. No siree. 

I turn on my heel, waving nervously. “Yeah, well, I’m going to go now! I’ve changed my mind; I don’t need coffee anymore.”

And with that, I attempt to bolt out the door. 

But unfortunately, I don’t have wings, and I’m not nearly as quick as this—

This— monster? Human? Can this even be considered a person, at this point?

The being catches up to me, blocking my path. 

I gasp, glancing upward, gazing into crimson red eyes. The answer is obvious now. I know who this is.

_Mothman._

Bastard.

“You come in here, you drink my coffee,” he says slowly, stepping closer to me.

“I have no money!” I lie. No way in hell will I drink anything he makes for me. 

“No need to pay,” he responds. “It’s all free, in this place. I’ll give you anything you want, baby.”

“Even a Louis Vuitton purse?” I squeak. 

“Even a Louis Vuitton purse,” he confirms. 

Well, fuck. Maybe staying with him wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Free stuff? I’m in.

“I’m yours, Mothman-san,” I say, sentencing myself to a lifetime of torture.


End file.
